


Shokushu Goukan (Tentacle Smut)

by satanssideshow



Category: Pokemon - Fandom
Genre: F/M, In heat fic, Lemon, Octillery - Freeform, Other, Shokushu Goukan, Smut, Tentacle Rape, beastiality, duh - Freeform, idk how things like hat work but hey it’s fake so, idk shit about anything, non con, octillery I called it the whole time but it has semen so it’s most likely a boy, reader is female, reader is in army branch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:07:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23983549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/satanssideshow/pseuds/satanssideshow
Summary: Last year I wrote a series of Japanese fetishes based of anime characters. This is my first “you” reader fic, might rewrite it to add more detail and do clean up but I’ve had this in my folder for so long and never bothered to post it lol  I wish I could draw, this would be a good doujinshiYou are stationed in Rhyme City after boot camp with your dear and only friend, your pokemon Octillery. Springtime is pretty, but maybe, not for pocket monsters in heat.
Relationships: Pokemon/Reader
Kudos: 72





	Shokushu Goukan (Tentacle Smut)

Even when there hasn’t been a war since before you were born, something about the military always appealed to you. Perhaps it was the order and how everything was uniform catered to your OCD side, or the discipline that you craved since you were a fiendish little delinquent in your teen years. Or maybe, perhaps it were the type of Pokémon that were military only that caught your eye.

Either way, you’ve done your training. You have your rank. You know what to do should you ever be needed for battle.

You’ve always been curious about Rhyme City, the only place in the world that allows free reign of any and all Pocket Monsters. You’ve heard it’s surprisingly clean but extremely crowded, but netherless a city where a young girl like you could learn to let loose and have fun. Besides, your favorite pocket monster, an adorable short red Octopus like creature, could finally be by your side now rather than in your jacket.

It took years for Pokémon to gain a friend recognition rather than just creatures to help humans. Sure, you may look cold hearted with a resting bitch face, but you really had sort of a heart of gold. Octillery has been good to you, why not you be good to it?

You couldn’t help but put your hair in a bun- a force of habit, but in the mirror you giggle and make it a little “messy”. Yes, you’re stationed here, but you could wear regular clothes now. Still, you opt for plain black leggings and a simple shirt with an olive green jacket, adorned with patches of your past ranks. Octillery looks at you with its goggle like eyes, squinting in happiness. It’s been more than content not having to go inside the red and white ball anymore, though it’s never run away, always by your side whenever you patrol or go out. You turn around to smile back at the little red monster, your hand reaching down to pet it’s rough but slick smooth head, caressing the yellow bump. With a nod, you head down the stairs to do your daily routine.

It’s a bit of a cooler spring, so you pull your jacket in closer. You’re getting too soft, you think, coming from the girl that’s slept in 20 degree weather with the thinnest of sheets for weeks. People and Pokémon gather in the parks to watch Sakura trees blossom, a sign that winter has ended and that summer is near. Petals litter the sidewalks and streets and look contrast against your tall black compact boots.

Octillery moves beside you at an alarming fast pace. The good thing about it is, it is both fire and water type. Though some water types don’t need water to be on land, they move a lot quicker and faster and thrive being wet, where as Octillery, it does just as well on solid ground. It’s tentacles slap on the sidewalk with a quiet suction cup sound, falling and picking up quickly, intertwining which appendage hits the ground to get back up with each step. Though it’s built stocky, it does so with much grace. The petals flow and stick to its skin, but when you look around, most Pokémon have the cherry blossom pieces on them anyway. You turn your head to smile at your comrade, catching a floating petal through the air, and placing it on Octillery’s head. It hums out its name gently as you two patrol.

Perhaps it’s because it’s the first week of spring, and that tags along the happy mood of others, but after a long day you sit back on a park bench with an ice cream cone in your hand, and you watch the sunset. Octillery is next to you on the seat, and it cuddles up to your side. Sometimes, because of his serious state and his work derived attitude, you forget that he’s still a creature with feelings, just like you. It may love to work, but its not made for that. You shift the cone to your other hand so your arm can lean on its head lovingly, and your fingers deftly trace the smooth red skin, occasionally rubbing the outline of the yellow circle.

You eat the first scoop, and as promised, you give the rest to the creature next to you. It gives you a look, but you reassure it with a smile, and it sucks it up with its wide horn snout. You realize that the poor thing is covered in beautiful pink petals, and you take out your phone to snap a picture. It’s only been a month since you’ve been stationed here, but you haven’t seem to make many friends. Yet that doesn’t matter to you, as you’ve gotten closer to your Pokémon. You dust off some of the blossoms on its tentacles, thought it’s cups are naturally sticky and you do so with great difficulty. You realize, instead of doing it now, it’s just going to walk home to get dirty again.

“We should get going so you can take a bath.” You tell it, and it squints as a smile. When you stand up, you notice that it’s all over your jacket and hands and legs as well. “So we can take a bath, haha.”

Though Octillery doesn’t need water, besides to drink, sometimes you fill the tub with water just to let him soak in it a bit. So you do just that, your hand checking the temperature, you pat the edge of the porcelain tub. The red monster climbs in, plopping it self in the middle of the bath mat and waiting for the water to fill up. You notice that even with its bottom tentacles flat in the water, the petals still don’t show signs of weaning. You chuckle softly, reaching over and picking up an arm, delicately picking off the pink buds, rubbing the yellow large bumps as you do so.

It’s a nice but mundane gesture to you, like taking care of a pet. You don’t think anything of it. Pokémon are weird, they have odd shapes, off bodies, they think like children sometimes- no matter how large or powerful. You turn off the water when it fills to just under where it’s neck would be. Again, you pick up the other tentacle and pick off the petals. You don’t notice the silent stare it’s been giving you. You’re a tad amazed by its body, it’s slick and rough skin a contrast to your soft and dry one. When you touch it, you do it absentmindedly, humming a show tune to yourself. You don’t realize how with each gentle stroke like that hardens its appendage.

You don’t realize until it’s too late.

When you pick up the last and sixth tentacle, its other one wraps around wrist. Your training kicks in so you tense up, but you look into your Pokémon’s eyes. It’s eyes are lidded and pupils are a shade of pink. You drop your guard. Your comrade is in pain. There’s something wrong. Your heart begins to ache as you drop its arm and your free hand begins to pat its head as you usually do. “What’s wrong, Buddy?” You ask, and the arm that wrapped around your wrist loosens but doesn’t let go. The monster sighs it’s name out with great difficulty, like its having trouble breathing.

“I’m gonna go call a hospital, okay?” You say, getting up off your knees. It hesitates to let you go, and you feel terrible and honored that it cares about you that much. It does, and you walk into the living room to grab your phone. As you look up a local hospital you don’t notice it behind you, it’s tentacles sucking loudly through the hardwood floor. You turn around, and it grabs you by ankles.

“Octillery, what the fu-!” You get slammed onto the floor, onto your ass, sending a sharp pain from your tailbone to your back. In a flash, it’s on top of you, two of its limbs pinning your legs, the other two wrapped around your arms. Your heart races, your Pokémon has never been this strong before. You two have had friendly spars. And it’s an Octillery. Known for its power to spit out fire balls and water and be efficient on land and sea. Never known for its strength.

So it terrifies you that you’re bound. And it’s more terrifying that Octillery is bigger. Wasn’t your little buddy always at knee height? Perhaps because you’re on the floor, and it’s above you that it feels like it towers over your immobile body. Either way, you stare up at its rose colored gaze, its snout right to your face. It could kill you right now.

Are you ready?

You thrash and try to fight it off, kicking your legs and moving your arms. But it’s limbs only constrict you tighter, feeling like heavy sandbags piercing into your skin. It reminds you of the nurse taking your blood pressure. Octillery’s snout breathes out a cool breath and it makes your hair sway, and in the next moment, the large gaping hole of its mouth engulfs your lips, muffling your gasp.

You try, you really do, to fight it off. Despite the severe pain throughout your body, nothing compares to the ache in your heart that your beloved pocket monster betrayed you. It’s mouth is hollow and sucks on your lips with a sting- you feel like they’d be the color white by the time it’s done.

Octillery loosens it’s limbs on your arms, but they’re so numb you can’t even move them. Tears prick your eyes, and the Pokémon softens up, pulling apart its mouth from your face. But you’re a soldier, you’re not going to give up that easily. With the very little strength that you have, you manage to prop your upper body up off the floor, it’s tentacles still tightly bound to your legs. Octillery curls an extra limb to your neck, the suction cups tickling your skin. It squeezes tightly, knowing exactly just how to cut your circulation of air. You turn blue before you turn people, you feel your eyes about to bulge out of your socket. Just when you’re sure you’re about to pass out, Octillery stops and releases your throat. The small breath of air that you’re excited to get isn’t as dramatic as you’d had hoped. You fall back down on the floor with a thud, looking up at the ceiling as your pocket monster tears off your clothing. Everything is aching as you feel the cool air hit your body. The suction cups stick to your skin like fleeting touches, and in spite of the heartbreaking situation your body is reacting in its favor.

You’re damp from the creature on top of you, from it soaking in water for a while. You whimper when it spreads your legs and smears a limb to your entrance. Even though the bound on you is loose enough, you’re too terrified to fight anymore. You’re not a solider. You’re a whore.

And you like being raped by your best friend.

A pokemon, for that matter.

You can’t deny that the slick from your folds aren’t from the bath water. Octillery knows how your pheromones lust for it, teasing your pussy before it plunges it’s tentacle inside you. You cry out, full fledged tears streaming down your redden cheeks as it tears you apart. You’re no virgin, but it’s been an extremely long time since you’ve had anything in there. Your walls suck the appendage in anyway, regardless of the pain you feel.

One of its limbs wrap from your back to your chest, the yellow suction cups slapping to your breasts. With the slightest movement it kneads your nipples, causing them to harden up. They feel ridiculously sensitive, where you arch your back and cough out a moan. Octillery basks in every sound you make, and it tries to envelope your whole body. The tentacle responsible for overstimulating your nipples lifts you up slightly, as another one wraps around your stomach to do the same. Another lifts up a thigh, making the angle of it fucking you deeper. Your hands tiredly reach out to it, to stop it or pet it, you’re not too sure yourself, but a limb gets behind your head and pushes you closer to its face. It’s eyes are soft and sorrowful, though you don’t see a twinge of regret. Again, it sucks in your mouth, but this time it feels tender, and you stick your tongue inside it. The kiss makes you more wet down there. Octillery’s whole gentle embrace gives you butterflies in your stomach.

When the creature parts, it slides a tentacle across your slick lips. You’re panting, your mouth still slightly open, and it uses the opportunity to slip the appendage in between. It surprises you, your shock muffled by the tentacle inside your mouth. You instinctively lick the sticky yellow cup and Octillery growls, pushing both tentacles down your throat and into your pussy further. The vibrations from your cry satisfy it, and you feel its limb harden inside you. You feel so full as it thrusts in and out of you from both ways. From your mouth, it barely gives you a second to breathe before stuffing it down your throat again, to your crotch, that squirms from side to side as it pounds in and out of you.

Your natural juices seep down to your asshole, where Octillery cups your bottom cheeks. The knot in the pit of your stomach tightens. This is it. You’re going to cum from this. You close your eyes in shame and embarrassment as you take this, but they shoot back open when Octillery stuffs another limb in another hole. This one agonizes you because of the lack of lube, despite your thick arousal coating just the entrance. You’re choking on the creature, gagging, you feel it scraping down your throat touching your chest, as the other one reaches up high and you swear you feel it in your stomach. The last appendage is the worst. If you didn’t feel it burn your hole, you’d feel it’ll cause a lower back pain, kissing your kidneys.

And yet, the knot in your stomach tightens some more. You stare into your pocket monsters eyes, and it gives you a sense of adoration. Don’t you like this? Don’t you like my gift to you? With tears and you’re pretty sure snot from your nose, it thinks you are the most beautiful thing ever as your messy hair falls around your face. Regardless of all that’s happened, you feel so good, an ultimate power trip, and as it thrusts in and out you finally come undone. Your body convulses with the three intrusions, warm walls enveloping the strong stable limbs. Your orgasm triggers Octillery, and it releases its seed into you with a grunt. As soon as it does, it softens and crawls out of your body, shrinking and returning to normal size. You cough out the white sperm, taking in a deep breath as you fall to the floor. Octillery shuffles onto your lap like a small dog, squinting its smile at you, as it usually does on normal nights.

You feel its semen seep out from your bottom holes, and your skin is littered in purple bruises from its suction cups and strength. You weakly reach out and pet it’s head cautiously, the pad of your finger rubbing against the yellow bump.


End file.
